Kith and Kin
by Mrs.FFWriter
Summary: After the Great War was won, Sandor presents Sansa with an infant to be raised in Winterfell. "I know raising another woman's child is not easy, but the last one taken in at Winterfell turned out alright." He joked, referring to Jon. She accepts to raise and love the child, incorrectly assuming it's Sandor's. SanSan admit their love and raise someone else's child together.
1. Chapter 1

**KITH AND KIN**

 **Chapter 1**

He glanced at the bundle she held and sighed as he thought over what she'd just told him. Initially, he was aggravated by the cryptic way he'd been lured out of the keep at such a late hour. If he hadn't been shocked by the scene that awaited him in the Godswood, her story surely did it.

"But it's still yours, despite who fathered the babe. Can't you try being a mother to him? I know you care little and less of your Ladyship title, and I doubt your bastard lover would begrudge you a bastard of your own." He tried talking sense into her but when his eyes met hers, he saw her desperation.

"You don't think I tried? I just can't do it Sandor. It has nothing to do with Gendry. He'd love the child, I'm sure of it, but I … I don't. I just can't." She was adamant, then shook her head sadly as her tone softened. "I never fantasized about having children as young girls do. I never thought I'd be a mother at all, but I did try. Yet, all I see when I look at him, is his father and everything that his family did to mine."

"Gods, you should really be speaking to your sister, hell either of your brothers would be better than me." Sandor protested.

"How am I to explain that this babe was put inside me by one Jamie Lannister, known to all of Westeros as Kingsayer? The same man that pushed Bran from a tower to preserve his secret love affair between himself and his evermore evil twin sister, Cercei Lannister. The same ruthless woman that ordered Lady to be killed, and was behind countless offences against Sansa and our family, not the least of which was ordering Father's arrest."

"Arya..." He tried to shush her, calm her, for he felt the pain in her words.

"How am I to explain to my siblings that it was Cercei's face I wore when Jaime came to bed her? How can I explain that the same unholy union that created Joffrey fucking Lannister, is also responsible for creating this child? How, Sandor? Sure, I wore her face to command the death of Euron Greyjoy and send the Golden Company soldiers north, but it was my womb Jamie emptied his seed into." She angrily wiped at the stray tear that fell from her eye.

"Calm down, Arya." Sandor awkwardly hugged the little she-wolf to myself while trying to think of a solution.

"I don't believe either of them would hold the child against you. You must know that." His voice softened as he noted her eyes tear up, knowing how rare it was for her to show any vulnerabilities.

"I've already told you. I can't go to Sansa or Jon... not with this."

"Maybe your kingly brother-cousin and his new dragon wife might want to raise the child themselves. I heard she may not be able to have children." But she was shaking her head before he finished speaking.

"Taking the babe to Jon is out of the question. Gods help me, even if they don't know the child's parentage, I do and I'll not let another Lannister near the Iron Throne. Tyrion is close enough because the queen refuses to let him leave her service. That leaves only Sansa."

"You've thought this though." He observed, but was still hesitant. "I suppose an orphanage wouldn't suffice?"

"Despite his Lannister blood, he's still a Stark. Winterfell should be his home." Her words were resolute.

"I suppose." He admitted, hesitantly.

"I never understood Mother's inability to love Jon when he was just a mother-less child." She lamented with a soft shake of her head. "Sansa looks a great deal like our mother, but they are not the same. I've no doubts that Sansa will care for the child in ways that I cannot. I need you to take him to her, Sandor. All I ask is that you not tell her I birthed him." She explained and once again, he found himself hearing the truth of her words.

"I still say you should go to her yourself." He told her but she shook her head at him.

"Despite her newly hardened exterior, Sansa is still so very loving. She wouldn't understand why I can't bring myself to love or care for the child myself. Besides, I haven't found a way to make peace with myself for what I did that allowed the child to exist." The youngest she-wolf's words drifted off before she seemed to find her words again.

"I need you to do this for me, Sandor. If I must beg you, I shall. Please, Sandor. Please."

He was exasperated, but he could see her reasoning. Sandor also knew he was unlikely to change her mind when it was obvious that she'd made it up already. To see tears swimming her eyes, once again, was more than he could bare.

"Aye lass. I'll do it."

"I don't know how to thank you." Her voice seemed forced, as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"What makes you think she won't turn the child away or send him to the Wintertown orphanage?" He asked.

"Despite what I feel or don't feel for the child, even if all I see in him is his father, he still a Stark by blood." She told him, letting her eyes fall back to the bundle she held with trepidation before looking up and into his eyes. "I'm trusting you'll not let that happen. Please, protect him, Sandor."

Her words and the tone she used might have caused most grown men's knees to buckle. Sandor's knees didn't buckle as he stood tall. Although, he did feel a lump suddenly form in his throat but it wasn't out of fear. He realized that over the years, his affection for the Little Bird had only grown. The same was true for the little she-wolf. While he knew he'd finally gained Sansa's trust and that Arya had removed him from her list, it meant a great deal to him that Arya was placing her trust in him.

"You have my word, Lady Arya." He promised her, in all seriousness.

"I'm not a Lady, Ser." She responded after a moment of looking into his eyes, then smiled slightly.

"I'm no Ser, but you have my word, none the less." He reluctantly smiled back.

She stepped forward and gently placed the sleeping child in his arms. Arya finally released a deep breath, and relief seemed to float from her being. It was like a weight had been lifted from her. Sandor supposed the child in his arms had weighed far heavier on her that it's actual weight.

"Your sister might grow to love the child one day, perhaps as her own."

"That is my hope." Arya nodded at him.

"If you ever change your mind about giving him up, it will gut her to lose him." Sandor's words were spoken softly, but Arya heard the warning in them.

"I won't, Sandor. Nor would I seek to hurt Sansa in any way." At her words, he nodded.

"Will you ever tell my pretty sister the truth?" She asked after mounting her horse, ready to leave.

"I told you I'd take the child to your sister, concealing his parentage. Mayhaps one day I might, though. I don't much like lying to her." He answered honestly.

"I suppose it wouldn't be fair to ask you to lie to her forever." She nodded grimly before a wicked smile crept into her face. "But I was referring to the fact that you're in love with her."

His jaw tightened and his lips pressed together for a moment, preventing himself from cursing her to all hells. Then, he simply shook his head. Arya took a moment of pity for the man before her.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, or her for that matter. None of us are the same anymore, Sandor, not even you." She told him and he knew she was right on that, but she wasn't done.

"I look forward to the day I may call you my Good Brother. Gods know she's given me far worse ones before." She told him before having her horse gallop away, leaving him in a stunned silence until the babe started to cry.

"Buggering hells!" He growled as he used his cloak to shield the crying babe from the night's chill while walking as fast as he could towards the keep.

* * *

A/N: This story is inspired by a dream about someone bringing me a nephew to raise. I thought it would make an interesting GOT story, so here you go. It's a 3 part short, but could develop into more. I hope you enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 2

**KITH AND KIN**

 **CHAPTER 2**

"No one knows where he's gone?"

"Not with any certainty, My Lady. I'm sure he'll return as soon as possible." Brienne answered from my side as my handmaid, Maylin shook her head.

"Very well. I will be in my solar, seeing to some correspondence. If any information is learned, please inform me. And when he returns, please have him see me at once."

"Yes, My Lady." Maylin responded before I turned to walk away with Brienne.

"I'm sure he is fine, Lady Sansa." Brienne tried to console, but my worry was at an all-time high.

"The note was very ominous and I know he's not one to think he needs help. We've finally reached peace in the realm, Lady Brienne. Yet there are still many in the North that are no friend to a previous Lannister man. I can just see him trying to asses any potential threats on his own." I admitted, not bothering to hide my fear for Brienne's sake.

"He is a formidable fighter, My Lady. Fret not." Brienne' words weren't untrue and I tried to calm myself, but it was very difficult until I knew he was alright.

"I know you're right, but I just wish I knew he was truly alright." I responded as I entered my solar and she stopped to stand at the door. "Would you like to come in and have a seat? Perhaps you can keep my mind occupied until his safe return."

"Is this the note?" Brienne asked taking the small parchment from the table as I sat and nodded. _"Clegane, in name of the Stark Bitch, come alone."_ She read out loud and the words still sent a chill down my spine. "I can understand your worry. Had this been addressed to me, I'd certainly take it as a threat to yourself."

"Precisely. This person is clearly no friend of the Starks and I fear what they've got planned for him."

"Lady Sansa, while this seems to be a credible threat within Winterfell, he'll not let any harm come to you. I feel I must remind you of what I've already said. Defeating Clegane won't come easily to just anyone."

"You defeated him... it can be done." I reminded her and she looked away in what I was sure was regret. "And even if you're right and they don't defeat him, they might still injure him greatly." I added and she looked back in my direction.

"My Lady, I must ask. Why do I get the feeling you're more worried over Clegane, than the threat that has managed to breach Winterfell's walls?"

At her question, I felt my cheeks warm. I should have measured my words better, I realized. Yet in truth, I'd been growing tired of always having to measure my words around others and covering my feelings. I knew that a person's true feelings were a vulnerability the Lady of Winterfell could seldom afford. I looked into Brienne's eyes, debating whether or not I should reveal the truth, but my name being shouted from the hall saved me from saying anything.

"Lady Sansa, please come quick. It's the Houn- Clegane. He's back ma'am. In the main Hall." Maylin announced out of breath as she finally reached my doorway, and I could tell she ran all the way to my door.

Fear gripped me to my core as I thought over all the ways he might be hurt. Before I knew I was doing it, I was running from my solar, and towards the main hall where Maylin said Sandor was. I heard heavy footfalls running behind me and I knew it was Brienne. Once I finally reached the main hall, it was empty, save for Sandor kneeling close to the fireplace.

"Sandor?" I called tentatively, approaching him from behind. "What's happened? Are you alright?" I asked as I softly put my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm quite alright, Little Bird. Come see..." He answered, turning his upper body towards me.

After several seconds of looking over his face and noting there was no signs of blood or a fight, I realized he held a bundle in his arms. I gasped and fell to my knees before him when I realized it was a baby, he was holding.

"Oh, Sandor... may I?" I asked, reaching my hand to uncover the babe enough to get a good look.

"Aye. He finally stopped crying. I think he was just cold, so brought him here to warm him up a bit." Sandor answered while holding the baby far enough from his torso, allowing me to unwrap his cloak from around the infant.

The babe was sound asleep and comfortable in Sandor's arms. He had fair skin and short black hair. His tiny but rounded face was handsome and I looked back up at Sandor's face. Watching his face as he smiled down at the child, noting how natural he looked with the babe in his arms, the question died at the tip of my tongue. When he looked back at me with a smile, I felt my heart crack and swell at the same time.

In my mind, I suddenly saw how this could have been our future... our child. My heart sang with love for this man, stronger than it already had before. Then, I remembered that it wasn't our child and my heart cried. Still, I imagined there must be a reason its mother was not present and I fought my irrational jealousy to smiled back at Sandor.

"Does this child have anything to do with the note addressed to you? Did you eliminate the threat?" Brienne asked from behind me, and I was grateful, for I hadn't yet found my ability to speak.

"Aye, but there was no threat." Sandor told her without taking his eyes off mine.

"The tone of the letter made it seem so. See, Lady Sansa. There was no need for you to worry over Clegane after all. May I ask whose child this is?" Brienne's words made my cheeks flame anew but I still couldn't tear my eyes from Sandor's.

"You worried over me, Little Bird?" He asked with an unreadable gleam in his eyes and all I could do was nod. "Well, Brienne's got the right of it, as there was no need to worry." He managed to smile in a way that he rarely did, which made my heart skip a beat.

"And the child?" Brienne asked him and he broke eye contact with me to look down at the sleeping babe.

"Please don't ask me to name his mother. I've given my word to her and I'll not break that promise. Even still, won't lie to you, Little Bird." He responded, then looked back into my eyes.

"A hound will die for me but never lie to me." I stated and held his gaze for a moment as he nodded, before I addressed Brienne.

"Lady Brienne, will you please ask Maylin to fetch a wet nurse?"

"At once, My Lady." Brienne answered and went about doing as I requested.

"You're not one for oaths or promises, Sandor. If you gave your word to the child's mother, I'll not ask you to break it. May I ask why she has left the child in your care?" I asked.

"She said she couldn't be a mother to the child; that she couldn't love the child due to his father." He told me and I thought his heavy-hearted tone would surely break my heart.

"Oh Sandor, that's... pardon me for saying it, but that's horrible. What kind of woman could just …"

"She's a good woman, Little Bird. She's just not the mothering kind, and it's no fault of her own. I'll not have you speak ill of her without knowing." He rasped and I was startled by his defense of the child's mother.

Again, I felt a twinge of jealousy but I tampered it. I recalled Cercei once saying something about a mother loving her children even if she had no love of their father. I remembered her words each time Ramsay spilled his seed in me. For I hated every single thing about Ramsay, but at the time, I prayed Cercei was right... because I was sure I'd hate myself for hating any child born from that monster.

I shook the dark thoughts away and looked back at the babe Sandor held tenderly in his arms. The helpless, innocent child was as motherless as Jon had been when Father brought him to my mother. Perhaps, many things could have been different if he'd been honest with her, and perhaps not. Of only one thing I was certain, this babe would not lack any love or affection.

"I'm reminded of how my father swore an oath of secrecy to my aunt, and later presented my mother with a bastard babe he intended her to raise among her own." I heard myself saying.

"I know raising another woman's child is no easy task, but the last one turned out alright." Sandor said lightly, which caused me to smile at him.

"King Jon, long may he reign." I responded and he nodded.

"To be sure, this boy is no king. And his mother …" He said but let his words end there.

"His mother matters not, and I shan't ever bring her up again. I'll have Arya's old chambers set up for him, right beside mine. You're be right across the hall from the both of us, and I'll help you in every way that I can. Your son will be happy and loved here, Sandor." I told him, meaning every word.

"My son." He breathed, almost sounding like a question as he stared at me in shock, but I smiled at him so he'd know I meant what I said, without any doubts.

"May I hold him?" I asked, somewhat eagerly since the last babe I ever held was Rickon.

Sandor quickly, but gently placed him in my arms and I snuggled him close. As I looked down at the little lamb, I noticed he looked just as Rickon had, so long ago. My eyes teared up, and I shook my head softly, trying to dispel the sad memories so I could focus on little … I didn't know what to call him.

"Does he have a name?" I asked, realizing that it had not come up.

When I looked up at Sandor, I realized he'd been watching me with an odd expression, but it seemed warm and soft. For some reason, it made my heart beat faster when his eyes met mine. He smiled at me tenderly and I couldn't help myself. I secured the babe in one arm while I reached for his hand with the other. He and I both released a breath at the contact, then I realized he hadn't yet answered me.

"His name, Sandor. Does he have one?" I asked again with a small smile which he returned before shaking his head. "Well, what would you like to name your son? Perhaps a Clegane family name." I asked gently.

"No." He all but growled before lowering his voice. "You should name him." He told me and my pulse picked up yet again.

"Really? Are you sure?" I asked excitedly and was thrilled when he nodded with a wide smile. "All right, let me think."

And think, I did. Sandorson? No, that seemed too formal and literal. Sandy, no he'll not like that. Tons of my own family names were jumping out at me, but I wasn't sure he'd like a Northern name imposed on his child. I wished I knew more of his family names, but he was firmly against that idea, judging by the way he roared before. Roared, my mind echoed. Then, I giggled softly to myself as I looked down at the little one.

"Sandor, what do you think of the name, Rory?" I asked somewhat shyly while surpressing my giggle at the reason I'd come up with it.

"Aye, sounds like a strong and solid name, Little Bird." He confirmed and I beamed at his compliment.

"After his strong and solid father." I responded, and even I couldn't deny the coquettish way it came out.

"Rory Clegane will be fostered here in Winterfell. We'll raise him well, Sandor. I have no doubt he'll grow up to be an amazing warrior, like you. And I will help him learn everything else. He'll be... he'll be strong, gentle and kind... just like you."

I'd gotten so excited as I spoke and pictured our lives raising the baby. It wasn't until I recalled the words my father told me once, that I noticed how close Sandor and I had gotten. Our faces were only a breath away from the other, and only the babe separated us. I found myself looking at his lips. My heart and mind yelling, and my lips begging to be kissed by him. Just when I thought he might, we were interrupted.

"Begging your pardon, My Lady. Lady Brienne says you sent for me?" Grethel's soft voice called softlly from the entryway, causing Sandor and myself to move away from each other.

"Good evening, Grethel. I have need of you. More precisely, our little Rory here, has need of you." I answered as cheerfully as I could muster while my heart was beating much too fast inside me, I felt faint.

"By the Gods, My Lady!" Grethel exclaimed once she caught a look at the child I held and walked towards me.

"He's still asleep, but I have no doubt he'll be hungry soon." I answered her with a smile, as my pulse and breath began to regulate.

"He is very young, he is. Can't be more than two moons old." She said, holding out her arms for the baby, looking between myself and Sandor with uncertainty.

"Indeed. Thirty-eight days, to be exact." Sandor answered her and I quickly did the math in my head.

There had only been eleven moon turns since the end of the war, which told me he'd fathered the child just before the end of it. I tried to picture just how cold and presumably lonely the nights must have been while they fought north of the wall. If he ever had a night off from fighting the dead, it was no wonder he sought the company of a woman.

There weren't many women fighting north of the wall, with the exception of Queen Danaerys who only had eyes for Jon, and a handful of wildling woman. That pretty much told me all I needed to know about the child's mother. Sandor may have been from the south, but he bravely faught for the North and decided to remain here. Sandor's son is of the North, and thus, he would be raised as such. Rory Clegane would be raised with all the honors granted to the children of the Great War soldiers.

"That's good to know. I shall mark the date down and alert the maester to register his name and birthdate tomorrow morning. Grethel, would you please see that the child is bathed and clothed warmly? Brienne, I'll need for you to please let Maylin know that I shall require some linens and skins for the babe to be set up in Arya's old chamber. Sandor, I shall need your help to fetch Rickon's old crib from the storage chambers."

"My Lady, I can ask the steward to fetch it." Sandor told me, but I shook my head at him with a smile.

"No, I shall go and see what else Rory may need. I think I would be like a visit with my family's old things. Will you come with me?" I asked him, knowing he wasn't likely to deny me.

"Of course, My Lady." He answered aloud, but I was sure I heard him whisper "anywhere" under his breath, which made me smile.

"Perfect. Then, lets away." I responded, already walking towards the hallway with him just behind me.

* * *

A/N: Sandor is torn between two promises... to uphold never to lie to Sansa, and still uphold his word to Arya. It seems Sansa's assumption and misunderstanding created the best loophole for Sandor... for the time being.


	3. Chapter 3

**KITH AND KIN**

 **Chapter 3**

I was glad the majority of the keep was already abed, leaving the hallways bare of people. I slowed my walk, letting myself fall in step with Sandor. Once he was beside me, I looked to him just as he turned his head towards me. For some reason, I couldn't get the near kiss out of my head. It reminded me of the last time, so long ago, when our faces had been that close to each other.

That night felt like a lifetime ago. The world was on fire as the green glow and screams came from my window. He was such an angry man then, filled with rage and blood-lust from the fight. Despite all that, his harsh words and the crude behavior with his blade, he'd been a gentle and broken man that I sang for. I thought myself a woman grown then, but I was still just scared child.

For so long, I regretted not going with him that night. Since then, I'd also learned what he meant when he'd demanded a song from me. I felt myself blush at my inner thoughts and looked forward again. I still heard him chuckle beside me.

"What's got the Little Bird so flush, I wonder." He joked to himself.

That only served to warm my cheeks further, but I was far from that naïve little girl from Kings Landing. Too much had happened to me. I'd seen too much over the years to let propriety cower my response. I knew Sandor wanted me then, and I'd wager just about anything that he was close to kissing me moments ago. If Sandor still wanted me, I knew it was not for my title, my lands, or anything but myself as a woman. Besides, I truly wanted to see if there was something between us, or if it was just my imagination.

"Once we're alone, I just might tell you." I flirted while keeping my eyes cast before me, but I heard his intake of breath which caused me to smirk.

Neither of us spoke another word until we reached our destination. Wordlessly still, Sandor pushed open the heavy door and handed me the lantern from the room. I lit it and we walked inside to giving me a better view of everything inside. It was definitely bitter sweet to be in a room with everything Stark.

"Is that it, over there?" Sandor asked and I turned to see where he was pointing.

"Yes, that's it." I answered as I looked at the crib's wood frame with the direwolf carving.

My mind was flooded with images of Mother, Father, Robb, Arya and even Jon and I playing with baby Bran in that crib, and later with Rickon. We had a happy life growing up here. My family was nearly all gone and those of us that still lived, were forever changed. Yet, the memories still remained untouched and unblemished. I felt a few tears pour from my eyes as I smiled at the crib, tapestries and memorabilia held within the chamber.

"Little Bird, are you alright?" Sandor questioned, coming to my side.

"Yes, Sandor. I believe I finally am." I answered truthfully, wiping at the stray tears.

"Alright. I'll go pull out the crib."

As he moved to get the crib dislodged from the things piled one and around it, I went to close the chamber door quietly. Once the crib was free and he turned in my direction, it was easy to see when his eyes caught the door closed behind me. He set the crib down as I approached him. I stood about a foot apart from him and took his hands in mine. I wanted him to have no doubts of my intentions, but also leaving him time to step away if I wasn't what he wanted.

"My Lady?" He questioned but I shook my head at his words, looking him in the eyes.

"We don't need titles, do we?" I whispered.

I took a step forward, closing the distance between us until we were chest to chest. Then, I moved his hands to my waist and ran my hands up his strong arms, placing them upon his shoulders

"Little Bird?" He tried again and I smiled sweetly at the term, but still shook my head again.

"Do you still think me a stupid little bird that sings the songs I was taught?" I asked him curiously, but smiling because I knew he didn't use that term to mock me any longer.

When he shook his head in denial, I nearly closed the distance between his lips and mine, but didn't let them touch. It was sweet agony, being so close to him while holding back from doing what I so desperately wanted to do for so long.

"Sansa" He exhaled my name, like it was something to be revered.

"Yes, Sandor. Do you still want me to sing for you?" I breathed my question as our noses touched slightly. "I've since figured out what you truly meant that …"

He pressed his lips to mine in a rough kiss that effectively cut off what I'd been saying. I heard myself whine into the kiss wanting more of him, but also needing to breathe. He growled into our kiss before allowing me to open my lips slightly to breathe.

I used my hands on either side of his face to bring his lips back to mine. I licked, then sucked on his bottom lip. He wrapped his arms tightly around my back and pressed me harder against himself, which caused me to moan his name into our kiss. He took advantage of my opened mouth, to let our tongues meet.

I'd never been kissed like this, and certainly no kiss had ever made me feel on fire this way. I felt like I was floating as he moves us somewhere. I didn't bother to open my eyes to check because as long as he didn't break our kiss, I simply didn't care. Within moments, I felt he was pressing me against the wall at my back. His lips had moved to a particular spot on my neck that made every part of my body want to sing for him.

"Yes, Sandor. Ohhh." I moaned as my knees weakened.

My woman's place had been throbbing and I couldn't stand it any longer. I needed friction and the only thing I could do was lift my leg to wrap around his hip. I felt his hardness press against my belly as I wantonly rubbed myself against his upper thigh, trying to relieve the ache I felt there.

"Sansa!" He rasped against my neck before using his hands lift my behind so my legs were off the floor.

I had the urge to wrap both legs around his waist, but it was difficult to do with my skirts in the way. I pushed him away slightly with a growl of my own. He set me down, allowing me to ruck up my skirts as best I could around my waist. Then, I lifted my leg to his hip again as I brought his face down to continue our kiss. He needed no further encouragement, and lifted me up again. This time, I did manage to wrap both legs around him to feel his hardness press against my cores with only his breaches and my small clothes in between.

"Oh, Sandor!" I exclaimed when he pressed against the exact right spot.

"Gods, Sansa!" He growled against my lips and began to pull away.

"No, don't stop, Sandor." I practically growled in response.

"If we don't stop, Sansa. I'll take you right here." His voice was rough, but he showed more restraint than I felt I had left, then he took a step away from me.

"I assure you Sandor, I wouldn't try to stop you." I smiled flirtatiously, stepping toward him.

"Gods, Little Bird. How much control do you think I have? You can't say things like what when my blood's all heated for you. You're ... Gods! And I'm … we can't." He rubbed his face and took several steps more away.

"This had better not be about propriety, Sandor Clegane. I assure you that I know what I want, and gods help me, that's you." I nearly yelled out of frustration.

"This is not the time, and it's certainly not the place. Not like this, Little Bird." He practically begged and after my lust had started to clear, I looked around us and knew he was right.

"I know you're right. Rory is probably waiting on us by now, as well. Just … I want you to know something before we walk out that door." I told him, stepping up place one hand upon his chest and the other against his scarred cheek.

"What's that?" He didn't step away again, and gently placed a hand at my neck while his thumb caressed my chin lovingly.

"If you truly want me, then I'm yours, Sandor. This is not a whim for me, and I assure you that I've been thinking on this for longer than I care to admit at the moment. I'll not change my mind."

"Of course, I want you, Sansa. I always have and I know I'll not change my mind either. I'm yours and I've been yours since before either of us realized it." He chuckled and kissed my lips lightly, which made me smile.

"Alright then. I am yours and you are mine... all we need is a Heart Tree." I joked without thinking but suddenly, I could see it in my mind and my heart leaped within my chest as I wished it were in truth.

Sandor was staring at me with that look again, the stunned but unidentifiable one he often had. I was about to tell him it was a joke, hoping I hadn't spooked him. Then, suddenly, he was laughing loudly. His suddenly laughter had startled me, but after a moment, I was smiling too.

"What's so funny?" I asked as I giggled for an unknown reason.

"Something Arya said." He managed as his laughter started to calm.

"Arya?" I asked him curiously, unable to imagine what my unpredictable sister could have said to make him laugh so heavily.

"She … Gods, she worked out my feelings for you on her own. I imagine she figured out yours, as well." He began, but I interjected for a moment.

"She might have, if I'd not admitted to them out right." I smiled at him.

"Truly?" He asked, then shook his head with a smile. "Well, she told me, of all people in Westeros, that she looked forward to the day she'd call me her good brother." He chuckled. "Said something about me being an improvement over the previous ones."

"Gods, Arya. Only she could say something so scandalous and potentially hurtful, as a jape... and still have the right truth of things." I chuckled to myself as I bent to pick up the lantern.

"Aye, the right truth of things." Sandor echoed from behind me, causing me to look towards him.

"Sansa, you know I care little of the Seven, for all the belief I never had in them. Nor did I believe in the old Gods of your Northern Heart Trees. Yet found myself praying to them every night of that war. I prayed for our victory, but not for all the people of Westeros. I prayed for you, Little Bird, for your safety. I don't believe in much, but if you'd seen all that I did and saw how impossible our odds were, you'd know why I believe in them now."

"Sandor, that's so … I prayed for you, too. I thought you were dead for a long time, and it never sat well with me. When word reached me that you were among the group with Jon, I was elated to learn you were alive, but so scared I'd lose you before I had the chance to see you again." I confessed and he took me in his arms and kissed my lips so lovingly.

"I never believed in any gods, before your Northern Old Gods. I was the second son of a minor southern house. I had no family, except for a truly monstrous brother that I longed to put to death. Never thought I'd marry or have children, much less find love. That was all before you, Sansa. I never fancied myself an honorable man before, worthy of lands or lordship, nor do I feel worthy now..."

"You are an honorable man, Sandor. You're worthy of love, lands, lordship... just about anything and more so than most, Sandor." I interrupted and he smiled.

"You make me feel that I am, Sansa." He whispered taking the lantern from my hand and setting it aside, then held both my hands in his.

"Clegane Keep is mine now, not that I have any intentions to leave here. It's not much, but it's all I have to offer you, Sansa Stark of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. I'll marry you, Sansa, if you'd have me. In a sept or before a Heart Tree. Whatever your heart desi..."

I jumped into his arms and kissed him with everything in me. I kissed him long and passionately, but this kiss wasn't about releasing my lust. It was meant to show him my undying love for him.

"Of course, I'll have you. I'll have no one else, Sandor. You're what my heart desires, you're who I love." I told him after pulling slightly away from his.

"Gods, help me. I love you too, Sansa. My Sansa, my Little Bird." He told me, then kissed me tenderly.

"Yes, your Sansa. Only yours, forever more." I replied happily, no doubt smiling widely.

* * *

A/N: I'm ending it here, unless it develops further. Things got pretty steamy, and I rated M for potential future chapters.

I'd love to delve so much further into this story, but I have a couple others still in progress. This one was a great way to get back to writing after a little hiatus.

I truly hoped you enjoyed this. Let me know if i should pursue continuing it. Thanks for reading!


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